


The Best of Intentions

by FortinbrasFTW



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Comedy, Domestic, Hand Jobs, M/M, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 11:59:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7314385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortinbrasFTW/pseuds/FortinbrasFTW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Look, alright, just listen for a minute—“ the mass of blankets starts to explain. “This was just one of those examples of the absolute best intentions just going a little off the rails here, that’s all—“</i>
</p><p>In which Cassidy gets stuck inside a duvet cover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best of Intentions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlelionvanz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelionvanz/gifts).



> Happy Preacher Day! This is un-betaed so please feel free to send types / grammar issues along in the comments. Thanks for reading!

“JESS!” The voice roars from some anonymous part of the church. “JESS! JESSE!” That’s followed by some muttering Jesse’s pretty sure might be along the lines of: “Fuck, fuck me, fucking bastard let go! Christ alive!”

Jesse stares down at his coffee with a sigh. He keeps one hand planted on the countertop. It’s Monday. It’s seven AM. It’s only his second cup. He’s got his comfy morning jeans and his t-shirt on and he’s not supposed to be dealing with this shit right now, or hell ever. How did he get here again? He’s got a very strong suspicion he’s far from the adequate stimulants to deal with whatever the hell is waiting at the other side of that Irish bellowing. 

Jesse takes another deep breath, lifting the coffee up to his face and letting the excellent smell of steam pool all around his senses. The peace lasts for a moment, maybe two before something ca-thunks against the ground up above with half a yell, followed closely by a pile of swears.

“Alright, alright,” Jesse mutters to himself putting down the coffee and giving it a firm look. “Don’t get too comfy. I’m coming back for you.”

“JESSE! MATE, COME ON NOW, THIS IS A SERIOUS BASTARD OF A SITUATION RIGHT HERE!”

“ALRIGHT!” Jesse roars back. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’M— uh…” the voice falters slightly. “Upstairs, alright, I’m upstairs!”

Jesse shakes his head turning towards the old rickety staircase that lead up to the rooms above the kitchen. When he gets to the top of the steps he stops, furrowing his brow. “Where exactly are you, Cass?”

There’s a grumbling shuffling behind one of the doors. “In here, alright, I’m in here.”

“In _my_ room?” Jesse takes a few steps forward, pushing at the door with his fingertips. It swings open with a long steady creak. Everything looks perfectly normal inside: sunlight easing in through the old windows, just a few things tossed on the thread-bare chair in the corner, a pile of blankets massed up on the bed.

He peers. “Cass?”

The mass of blankets on the bed gives a lurch and Jesse can’t help jumping. He’s suddenly grateful he left his coffee downstairs because he would definitely be wearing it.

“Cass, what the hell?!” he yells.

“Look, alright, just listen for a minute—“ the mass of blankets starts to explain. “This was just one of those examples of the absolute best intentions just going a little off the rails here, that’s all—“

“I can barely fucking hear you through all those blankets. Come on, get out of there.”

The blankets go still. “I… can’t.”

“What the hell are you talking about, come on, get out. I don’t want my sheets smelling like burnt fiberglass and trailer-park dabs, alright?”

“I _can’t_ ,” Cassidy’s rolling voice calls back. “I’m… it’s a bloody marvel of modern engineering alright, there’s nothing to be done.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Come on,“ Jesse grabs a handful of the blankets and tugs, but they don’t pull free, they just wrap even tighter around the bulky anonymous shape in the middle. Jesse frowns, lifting the sheets, but he’s not under there either. He pulls a few things to one side then another and finally takes a step back. “Are you… are you _inside_ that duvet?”

“Am inside a bloody conniving labyrinth of cotton and Fabreeze? Yes, yes I am.”

Jesse suddenly feels himself starting to smile. “How, uh, how’d this happen?”

The blanket pile sighs. “Look, like I said, best intentions alright, and serves me fucking right, eh, lesson learned there.” 

“What best intentions? What are you even doing in here, Cass?”

“Alright, alright, well you’ve been you know a little, let’s call it ‘stressed’, what with the voice of lord almighty echoing out of your stubbly little face there, and all the manner of shite these sorry bastards you manage to give a damn about throw in your general direction. And I know I haven’t been, well, exactly—“

“Helpful?”

“Right, sure, helpful, alright - so I thought I’d try and do a few domestics and such. Like laundry, for an example.” 

Jess smiles. “You know how to do laundry?”

“ _Yes_ , alright despite bloody appearances I am actually a moderately functioning bastard. Quite keen at the laundry actually, know to separate the bright ones from the white ones and all the rest of it.”

“Well isn’t that impressive.”

“How about we pack away the patronizing this morning padre and actually get me out of this damn thing. Would that be alright?”

“I’ll stop being patronizing when you stop deserving it.”

“Look, have you _ever_ actually tried to put one of these damn blanket condoms on, eh? Honestly I’d have an easier job getting a rubber on my granda and he’s been under the earth least a century now—“

“Alright, alright,” Jesse cuts him off, “that’s enough, let’s get you out of this thing.”

“Right!” The lump on the bed instantly starts moving, as if it wants to be helpful and Jesse can’t help chuckling under his breath.

“It’s not bloody funny,” Cassidy’s voice calls back.

“No, no, ‘course not,” Jesse says, grin still plastered on his cheeks. He reaches out to try and grab an edge of the blankets, pulling them around to try and find the opening but Cassidy’s flailing limbs and bony weight is making it much harder than it ought to be.

“Keep still, Cass, christ,” Jesse says, trying to shove him out of the way.

“Well, I can’t exactly keep still when— oy! That’s my bloody face!”

“Oh, is it?” Jesse smirks, shoving a hand even wider against it, pushing him back as Cassidy lets out a yelp of surprise.

“Look here now, I may be tethered in this lilac smelling contraption alright, but I’ll still take a swing at yah, don’t think I won’t.”

“Yeah? Give it a try.”

The blanket flails helplessly on the bed, limbs pushing against the confines in every direction.

Jesse can’t pretend he isn’t laughing now. “Christ Cass, you look like some kid on halloween got into his daddy’s whiskey and wound up trapped in his own costume.”

“That’s a real nice family image there Jess, and can’t say I don’t find that a perfectly apt fucking description. Look, just move into this general vicinity so I can smack you upside the head, alright?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get right on that.”

“Did I mention I’m claustrophobic. I have a deadly, very serious claustrophobia. This is frankly abuse is what this is.”

“Calm down, jesus christ,” Jesse says, pulling at the blankets again, searching for the opening that has to be somewhere. “How did you even get in here?” 

“Ah well, if I knew that then I be out already with a spliff and some french toast like any other Monday now wouldn’t I?”

“God,” Jesse furrows his brown, getting a knee on the bed and pushing the blankets around even further. “What the hell is going on with this thing?”

“It’s a monstrosity. It needs to be put down, bloody beast of a thin, for the good of mankind. Honestly, when you get me out of its nethers I suggest a ceremonial burning.”

Jesse thinks he sees one of the edges. “Here, move,” he reaches out and shoves at the floral-smelling bright white of the sheets, getting a hand around some bony part of Cassidy’s body hidden under, he thinks maybe his side. He gives it a shove and Cassidy twitches into a frantic little flail which is absolutely no fucking help at all.

“Quite squirmin’,” Jesse scolds, shoving at him again, and in doing just that causes an even bigger flail. “Quit it, Cass!”

“You quit it!” The bony limbs slash out in his general direction. 

“Look,” Jesse insists, “you just got to move whatever the hell this is—“ he grabs at something else (a thigh maybe), and shoves it towards the side. Cassidy let’s out a sharp yelp.

“What is wrong with you? Move!” Jesse calls.

“Alright! I would if you’d stop fucking tickling me stupid, christ alive, it makes it right bloody difficult.”

Jesse slows. “ _Tickling_ you?”

“ _Yes_ , you’re bloody tickling with your damn grabbing little hands there, just cut it out and I can try and ‘move it’.“

“What?” Jesse starts to smirk. “Like this?” Jesse grabs at his thigh.

Cassidy lets out a sharp squeal that has Jesse’s face breaking into a grin.

“No, no, no—” Cassidy insists wildly, “look, look alright, this is a very compromising situation, and I don’t think—“

Jesse darts a hand in towards his stomach, pinching keenly at his side. Cassidy’s general shape falls backwards, laughter bubbling out of it in panicked little bursts and the sound is so completely hilarious paired up against the image of that thrashing absurd shape lost in the blankets that Jesse can’t help adding a second hand into the mix, planting both knees on the bed and really going after it.

“Shite, shite—!“ Cassidy gasps between laughter, “you fucking right bastard—!“ His knee catches Jesse right in the ribs. 

Jesse’s breath shoots out of him as Cassidy lets out a victorious cry and Jesse can’t seem to stop himself from throwing his full weight down on top of him. He wrestles those bony little arms out of the way, darting a hand in to squeeze at Cass’ sides and his ribs and his knees. 

Cassidy’s elbow gets him pretty good against his jaw and Jesse startles, dazed for just long enough for Cassidy to roll his weight and throw him against the other side of the bed. Jesse growls, determined to inch out some form of victory here. It’s either that or go the rest of the week hearing about how a guy trapped in a blanket knocked him on his ass. 

Jesse’s hands scramble at the flailing shape under the blankets, finally latching around what he’s pretty sure are wrists. With a wild huff of laughter he flips his weight before Cassidy can wiggle free, landing right on top of him, hips pinned under his and wrists held tight back above his obscured head.

“HA!” he calls down and then instantly swallows it. Cassidy growls, thrusting his hips hungrily up against Jesse’s, grinding a solid erection right between his legs.

Jesse’s cheeks heat up in less than a second, tongue going heavy and breath catching in his throat. He stares down at the vaguely-Cass shaped sheet pinned under him, feeling the pulse on the wrists in his hands jump up a notch.

“Ah,“ the blanket grumbles as Jesse tries to blink the confusion out of his head. “That’s, uh,” Cass continues, “apologies about that padre, look, when you’re uh, tusslin’ a fella around with everything smelling like daisies and lilacs, well, that’s just a force of nature there, alright, I didn’t mean nothin’ by—“

Jesse grinds his hips back down against him.

Cassidy’s voice falls off into a sharp hiss, the tendons of his wrists tightening under Jesse’s grip. 

“Shit—“ Jesse mutters. Bad idea. Bad fucking idea, but his morning wood’s all too ready to rise again, like fucking jesus on easer. Jesse’s head’s gone a little misty, with the wrestling and the scrambling and the feeling of a warm eager body under his. His breath catches raggedly in his chest, a prickling heat groping up around his neck. 

Cassidy’s bony hips jut under his, urging the hard line of Cass’ cock up against the inside of Jesse’s thigh. Jesse’s dick pulses hungrily at the feeling, trapped under the worn fabric of his jeans.

Cass groans as Jesse meets his rhythm, moving to rise up towards him but suddenly Jesse’s tightens his grip, forcing him back down. He leans forward without thinking, opening his mouth against the heat of Cass’ breath through that fucking sheet. He finds the shape of his lips and kisses him roughly, demandingly. Cassidy’s hips urge with a fresh frantic nature up towards him, unable to do much else but grind his cock blindly, hungrily upwards, hoping for something, anything to catch against. Jesse can feel Cassidy’s breath speeding, darkening, shifting into something raw and starved and he drops his hips down harder, tightens his grip, bites at his shoulder through the sheets and Cassidy let’s out a frustrated groan.

“I’m burning this bloody duvet, fuck me—“ Cassidy swears breathlessly under the blanket, that deep rolling voice dripping out of him. “Look, just—“

But before he can finish Jesse lets one of his wrists go, snapping a hand down between their hips and gripping at the hard length of Cass through the blankets.

“Fuck—!” Cassidy’s whole body arches backwards, hips jerking against Jesse’s unyielding grip. 

Jesse wets his lips, watching with a hazy fascination as Cassidy arches and twists under that blanket as his own fingers work messily and clumsily against the sheets.

“Look, look—“ Cassidy starts again, barely finding enough breath to make the words fit together right. “ _Weirdly_ fucking hot as this is, alright, you’d better get me the fuck out of this thing right fucking now, yeah?”

Jesse huffs a laugh, giving him one last squeeze before leaning back, “Alright, alright…“

Cassidy is scrambling instantly, and Jesse leans back on his knees, cock feeling a little too hard and needy shoved against his jeans. It’s making it hard to focus, but he suddenly sees a break in the sheet and grabs for it. Cassidy’s hands get there almost as fast, popping the bottom of the sheet open and Jesse’s about the snatch his wrists and pull him out when Cassidy grabs him instead, and with freakish strength hauls Jesse right in after him. 

Jesse tries to get his bearings. It’s warm inside the sheets, confusing and close, white yellow light all around, and squirming bony warmth under his hands. 

“It thought you wanted out,” Jesse mutters.

“It’s growing on me.” Cassidy’s kisses him. His tongue darts over Jesse’s lips teasingly then drives into him hard and dirty enough to take Jesse’s breath away all over again. It’s messy and sharp and Jesse finds himself growling into it, forcing his weight on top of Cassidy again, only this time there’s _far_ less between them.

Cassidy’s all skin and heat underneath Jesse’s weight, all except for some ratty boxers. Cass’ long fingers are already working Jesse’s shirt up his stomach, hands spreading wide and greedy on his skin. Jesse folds into it, letting Cass drag the shirt over his head only for Cassidy to dive forward, kissing Jesse’s bared neck with teeth on the edges and a warm tongue in between.

Jesse hisses, thrusting his hips down again, angle finally good enough to get some real friction against the bony arch of Cassidy’s hip. Cassidy groans against his skin, rolling his hips to the side to catch his own cock against the contained line of Jesse’s. Jesse muffles a swear into the space between Cass’ neck and shoulder, sliding a hand into that short dark hair and tightening it sharply. That punches a breath out of Cassidy’s lungs. Jesse lets his mouth drag down Cass’ throat breathing in the leathery smell of him. And god, this is worlds past stupid, but he’s too drunk on the the taste of his mouth: whiskey and copper and things that will probably have Jesse seeing new colors in another hour, too drunk on the clever hunger in Cass’ fast long fingers and the sharp little whines he makes when he twists his grip on his hair. He’s too drunk on all of it to stop now. 

Cassidy’s nails tighten against Jesse’s thighs greedily, pulling Jesse closer as he ruts up into him. “Got to tell you, these are some fucking horrible jeans, Jess.”

Jesse huffs a laugh against the scruff of his neck. “Yeah, amen to that.”

“Shite—“ Cassidy swears, hands popping Jesse’s fly open and shoving his jeans down past his ass. Jesse leans back enough to get the jeans off, boxers getting half way down after them.

“C’mon now,” Cassidy mutters roughly into the hot clammy space under the blankets, urging Jesse right back into him. 

Jesse moves to drop his hips down into him again but suddenly Cass catches his hip firmly, keeping them apart. Jesse can’t help letting out a growl, darting down the bite at the edge of his neck demandingly. 

“Hold on, just— just—“ Cass huffs, tightening his grip. Cassidy suddenly drags a thumb against Jesse’s lower lip and Jesse instantly snatches it, wrapping his lips around the thumb, sucking it deeply into the warmth of his mouth. Cassidy groans, easing his thumb free and pressing two fingers in to replace it. Jesse lets his tongue trace the lines of his finger, sliding between them, mouth limp and wet and then Cass’ fingers are gone. Before Jesse’s ready Cass snaps a hand around both their cocks in one slick tight grip.

“Fuck—!“ Jesse gasps, instantly thrusting down into his fist.

“God, right,“ Cassidy tightens, twisting just enough on the upstroke. 

Jesse can tell he’s trying to take it slow, but they’re both utterly failing at sticking with that unspoken resolution. Jesse drops his forehead against Cass’ bony shoulder, arching his back to thrust his hips tighter and firmer, the grind the slick length of his cock down Cassidy’s.

Cass’ clever fingers shift and stagger and grip, wrist working them in an increasingly frantic rhythm with a seemingly endless strength.

“Shit, Cass-“ Jesse gasps, feeling that pressure sinking, that tightness building. He can’t help loosing himself on the punishing speed of that stroke. He drops his weight onto his forearms and groaning as his orgasm smashes into him headfirst. Jesse’s breath is hot and tight in the close space between those sheets, shoulders shaking at the pressure. “Cass—“ 

And with that Cassidy’s coming right after him, staggering hips jerking into Jesse’s with a sharp shout, messy thrusts jerking forward as his free hand tightens into Jesse’s hair and simply holds on. He rolls himself through the last of it, finally letting out a hard steady breath, the sticky hand still holding them together starting to loosen.

Jesse takes a few steady breaths, the light around them clustered and golden and all together too warm. He eases back as Cassidy pulls his hand away for good, wiping it off on the sheets under them.

“Well, so much for clean sheets,” Cassidy grins.

“Yeah,” Jesse lets out half a laugh, giving Cass’ shoulder a squeeze, rolling over and trying to kick his way out into the fresh air. “So much for the best intentions.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks so much for reading - as always comments, kudos, bookmarks all super appreciated.
> 
> I'm also taking more dialog prompts for these two or any combo of the main three over at my tumblr, you can find the list of prompts linked on my sidebar @ fortinbrasftw.tumblr.com


End file.
